


Unscheduled Afternoon Activities

by BurnItAllDownDahling



Series: Prompts [21]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Feral Behavior, M/M, Snacks & Snack Food, Spardacest (Devil May Cry), silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 17:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21201614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnItAllDownDahling/pseuds/BurnItAllDownDahling
Summary: What's a sexually-frustrated, barely-verbal young demon to do when there's nobody left in the demonworld who's worthy of his time? Come on over to Humanville. Population: one hot, easily-seduced uncle.





	Unscheduled Afternoon Activities

**Author's Note:**

> Just some PWP silliness, in response to this prompt: " My dude, you taking requests??? Cuz if you do, how you feel about some feral!Nero? Say, maybe he got stuck in hell some how (maybe demons dragged him in/perhaps Mundas finally regained enough energy to reform and want him but he turn out to be stronger than him) and was there for enough time his new more demony body took over mostly? Also how is your stance on demon cannibalism? Would your boys eat some demon parts?" Not super deep, Nonny; no time for another long story for a while. But hope you like.
> 
> Unrelated to "A Family Affair." Probably takes place somewhere between DMC 4 and 5.

The job is low on details. Blue demon, it says. Horns. Glowy wings. Keeps stealing kills from other devil hunters, and apparently eating them to judge by the leftover arms and heads found here and there. No human kills noted so far. White hair. Impervious to heavy weapons.

Dante knows by that last bit who the hire for this job is: Lady. She doesn't like to give up jobs, but if shooting the thing doesn't work, then she's got no choice but to outsource. Curious that it didn't kill her. It's the white hair part that really catches his attention, though -- that, and the apparent disinterest this creature has in killing humans, because that means it's no mindless predator. High-order demons don't bother eating humans, because humans aren't enough of a challenge; at worst, they just toss humans into the nearest Qliphoth so at least their blood can be useful. Or maybe Dante's overthinking it, and this thing just thinks humans taste bad. It'd be just his luck to have found a demon foodie.

The thing doesn't bother to hide. He finds it in an abandoned quarter of the city -- abandoned because it's lousy with mini-portals to the demon world, real estate devs really should know better than to move ancient protective totems when they dig them up -- sunning itself on a rooftop. It's a sleek, pretty thing, more humanoid than even Dante's own higher form, leggy and long-armed and with silken white hair down to its rather shapely ass, between weird phantom wings that don't look quite real.

It pushes itself up quickly as he banks in for a landing, and he braces himself to give chase -- but it isn't running. There's something _eager_ about the way it stands up, in fact. Spoiling for a fight, then? Maybe; it's practically bouncing on the balls of its feet, its gaze alight, by the time he lands. Dante's even more certain that this isn't quite a demon when he sees its face; its power certainly marks it as high-order, but even they are rarely this humanoid. Another demon-human hybrid, then. But why the hell does it look glad to see him?

"Hey," Dante says, deliberately making a growl of his deeper, echoing demonshape voice. If he can intimidate this thing right off the bat, that lessens the chance of a fight, and property damage that will cut into his pay --

It leaps at him. He curses and fends off its strikes. The glowy wings are definitely real, and dangerous as hell, and the thing turns out to have an utterly deadly phantom right hook as well. It grabs him once and flings him through a billboard and _it's still hanging onto him_ even though he's twenty feet away. He figures out an instant before it snatches him back that he'd better get serious quick, or it'll kick his ass. 

So he breaks its grip and draws Rebellion and flexes his power enough to let his opponent know just who it's messing with. When it freezes, startled by the flare of his power, Dante slams it down on the rooftop and pins it there, snarling into its face. He doesn't usually kill demons that don't threaten humans, but he'll make an exception, goddamn it, if this thing doesn't settle down.

The creature abruptly shimmers and transforms into a naked human man -- a young one, late teens or early twenties, with short white hair and a face that is subtly familiar. Dante is startled enough to jerk back onto his heels. The young man curls after him, crooning and grabbing at his chest armor, a look of desperation on its -- his -- face. When Dante goes still, the young man purrs and rubs his cheek against Dante's armored jaw, tilting his head and... uh... offering his neck. Which is. Um. Okay, it's been a while since Dante hung out with any proper demons? But he's pretty sure he knows what this kind of submissive display suggests.

"Uh, hey," Dante says. He's thrown enough to shift down to his own humanshape, which seems to please the young man. He starts sniffing at Dante, loudly and obviously, ribs flexing with the depth of his inhalations, and his hands roam -- "Whoa! Hey, now," Dante blurts, when young Mr. Not-A-Demon grabs for his crotch. In addition to suspecting that this "demon" is actually part human, he's getting some unnerving ideas about how the kid happened to end up with that heritage. Not-A-Demon's mostly-blue coloring in his other form, for example. His age, which is just about right for him to have been fathered by an irresponsible, if assholish, teenager. The kid's _face_, which features a triangular version of an oh-so-familiar square jawline. Also, Dante's always used condoms. But if the kid's been in the demon world all this time --

"Strong," the kid says, sounding pleased. He takes Dante's shock-limp hand and pulls it to the base of his throat. "Yours."

Oh, shit. "Uh, look, I can see you've got, uh, _ideas_, kid, but, uh, you know, I think I might be your uncle."

The kid grunts in disinterest, now pulling Dante's hand down his chest, and over the beautifully-formed muscle ridges of his abdomen. "Yours," he says again, and... uh. Dante's looking, in spite of himself. Nice. The kid smiles at his reaction and keeps pulling, and suddenly Dante's hand is curling 'round a lovely ready cock and brushing snow-white pubic hair. And as if that wasn't the world's biggest clue, the kid looks up at him through snow-white lashes, and says hopefully, "Fuck?"

Even if Dante was the world's most virtuous person, he would be tempted in this moment.

Because he is _not_ a virtuous person, and because the boy is fucking delicious to look at, with skin like satin, and because it's not like Dante hasn't done the incest thing before, and because he's got a dick in his hand and his own dick is singing in harmony and he _wants_, for God's sake, it's been too long and the soft line of the kid's throat beckons and _Holy shit did this kid actually come here looking for someone strong enough to give himself to?_

Yeah. Dante's pretty sure that's precisely the case. So he finally growls and grabs the kid's pretty throat and bends him back for a sharp, commanding bite. Because, come _on_. The kid's right _there_. And Dante is, after all, only (half) human. 

The kid moans and folds those glowing wings around him and yanks at his clothing, and it's about to be on... when of course they both tense, sensing the approach of another predator. The kid hisses in irritation, and Dante groans. Lady, carrying the world's biggest gun and representing the world's biggest cockblock.

In a flash the kid wriggles free, shifts back to demonshape, and leaps onto the rooftop edge to growl in Lady's direction. But then he glances over his shoulder at Dante with a plaintive whine. It's not hard to guess what he's on about: it's nearly dawn, and transdimensional portals tend to close by daylight. The kid wants Dante to come with him to the demon world, maybe to finish what they've just started.

"No can do, kid," Dante says. He sighs and props himself on one elbow, on his own discarded clothing, and tries not to think about the blue balls he's developing. "Gotta pay the piper, or at least the utilities companies, so I have to say hi to her." He can't help licking his lips, though, looking wistfully after the kid. "I mean, if that's all you came here for, sorry you didn't get what you wanted, but obviously the threat is, uh, subdued. Maybe next time, though? I'd give you my number, but..."

The kid sighs in deep frustration. Dante has no idea if he understands anything Dante is saying. Regardless, in a flicker of wings and hair, he's gone. Dante senses the tremor of a portal being traversed, and then the reverberating weight of the kid's demonic presence vanishes.

Dante rolls onto his back and sprawls there, with a heavy sigh. Then Lady's standing over him, with a skeptical look on her face at his nudity. "I don't think I want to know," she says. 

But at least she pays him -- less a few hundred for the busted billboard, but still -- so he counts it a good day and heads home.

(His brother's barely-verbal feral son, tho. That's... well. Probably for the best.)

Except. 

He gets home and takes a shower and afterward heads down toward his desk to start paying some bills with his newly-in-the-black bank account. He's still wearing a towel 'round his hips and rubbing another over his wet hair, because it's that kind of day. When he lowers his hands, however, he finds himself staring at the neatly-gutted corpse of a dead goat demon. It's huge, taking up most of the main foyer... and there's a familiar blue, bright-winged figure sitting crosslegged on top of it. "Hey," the kid says, brightening as soon as Dante appears. Imitating Dante's first greeting, albeit friendlier.

"Uh, hey, yourself," Dante says, grinning despite himself. He finds himself surprisingly glad to see the kid. "Uh. So, like. What's with the dead demon?"

"Snack," the kid says, stretching and adopting his human shape. He's naked again. Maybe he doesn't bother with clothing at all; not much need for it among demons. He looks around, then hops off the demon and begins prowling around the main foyer of DMC. He pauses and hisses at the sight of one of the stuffed demons Dante has up on the wall for decoration, with a crossbow bolt pinned through its lolling mouth, but it's obviously dead, so he moves on. He peers and Dante's desk and picks up the bottle of whiskey. After some fumbling he opens it, sniffs, and makes a horrible face.

"Hey, don't knock it til you try it," Dante says, amused. He's following the kid, fascinated despite himself. The kid grumbles and sets the bottle down, then sniffs at the chair where Dante spends so much of his time. Immediately the kid flops down in it himself, naked butt and all, and wriggles a little, as if to make extra-certain there's contact between his body and every part of the seat. Then he gets up and resumes inspecting the room. At the jukebox he does it again -- ignores the buttons, but bumps his whole body against the thing, rubbing himself on it so blatantly that Dante wonders if he shouldn't be jealous.

Okay, this is getting weird. Just to make conversation, Dante says, "So, uh, I was thinking, and since you're obviously going to keep coming around... What do I call you?"

"Yours," the kid says, firmly. He glances up at the steps, and then neatly does a standing leap from the floor up to the second level, where he walks into Dante's room like he owns the place.

When Dante gets up to his room, the kid is crouched atop his dresser, glaring at a half-empty box of pizza. "What?" Dante asks. He moseys over and opens the box; the kid crouches more, opening his mouth a little and wrinkling his nose. Too smelly for his taste? "Oh, that's just the garlic. Here." He picks up a slice and lifts it to the kid's face. The kid hisses and shrinks back. "Snack," Dante says, to reassure him. "Pizza. Tastier than demon hot wings, trust me."

The kid looks dubious, but then he glances up at Dante, sighs a little, and then apparently decides that pizza must be the price of being permitted to remain in Dante's presence. He blurs forward, shifting to demonshape in the process, and Dante snatches his hand back before he loses it. But then the kid resolves back into humanshape, sighing and chewing the whole slice at once. He swallows and freezes, eyes widening with surprise and delight.

Dante laughs. "See? Demons taste like ass. I mean, obviously you haven't had a lot of options, and you sure grew up nice on that diet... but humans invented pepperoni, and you're probably at least a quarter human, so time to give the other side a try, right?"

As if in agreement, the kid ducks his head. Then he edges forward, still purring, and abruptly he bumps his head against Dante's chest. Surprised, Dante puts an arm around him, stroking his soft white hair and the back of his long neck. With a pleased sound, the kid blatantly rubs his head against Dante's chest and throat. Then Dante finally gets it, and laughs. "Holy shit. Are you _marking territory_, kid? All over _my stuff_? Also... me?"

The kid ignores this. Maybe he doesn't understand that much English. But after a moment he arches up, watching Dante sidelong through his pale lashes, and nuzzles his chin again with distinct suggestiveness. Then he blurs, and suddenly he's in Dante's bed, on hands and toes. He circles once, treads the mattress a little, apparently likes what he's feeling, then lowers himself and stretches out to rub his belly against the sheets. He does this with such graceful open sensuality that, whoa, hello, Dante's not really hungry for pizza anymore.

Licking his lips, Dante steps close to the bed and tosses aside the towel he's been carrying for his hair. The kid's gaze drifts down his body and stops at the towel around his hips. Yep. Definitely staring at Dante's dick through the cloth.

Dante feels the need to be a good uncle, or at least a good half human. Isn't right to fuck somebody without at least knowing their name. "Dante," he says, jabbing a thumb at his own chest.

"Dante," the kid repeats. He stands up on his knees, a blatantly predatory look on his face, and puts out a hand to stroke across the front of the towel. It's pretty obvious by now that Dante's interested.

Dante licks his lips. He was always going to go to hell, so might as well enjoy the ride. "And your name is?" he says again, running a finger over the kid's gorgeous mouth. 

"Mmm, _yours_," the kid says. He catches Dante's finger gently in his teeth, then takes it into his mouth, and... fuuuuuuuuck.

"I can't keep calling you 'Yours,' kid. Not if, uh, we're doing this." He's babbling. His brain is rapidly dropping into his other head as the kid suckles and licks. "Call yourself that if you want, but give me _something_ else. Anything."

The kid sighs in mild annoyance, slurping off Dante's finger. "Nero," he says, finally. 

"Nero. Yeah? Nice. I like it." Dante swallows hard. "So, uh, what's on your mind, Nero?" He's pretty sure he knows.

Looking Dante in the eye, the kid -- _Nero_ \-- takes hold of the finger he's been fellating, turns Dante's hand back toward him, and slowly pushes it down 'til that finger touches the head of Dante's cock through the towel. "_Dante._" Dante's dick is what's on his mind.

Dante's never going to think Tarzan is corny again. "Yeah, me Dante," he breathes, tugging the towel off himself. Nero smirks, his gaze growing hotter, and there's just enough smugness in it to confirm all of Dante's suspicions about his parentage. 

Then the kid slides a hand down Dante's torso, and bends down, and _dear sweet fucking God_ his mouth.

The situation starts to deteriorate rapidly from there. Dante can't quite help cupping a hand around the kid's head and using the leverage to fuck his mouth. He doesn't mean to. No telling what the kid's used to -- but there's something about having a beautiful, hungry young demon in his bed that's bringing out the beast in him, and he's not entirely sure he wants to rein it in. The kid hums around his throatful of cock and it's so unbelievably delicious that Dante finally throws him back on the bed and climbs on top and kinda forgets about lube or foreplay or any of the stuff that he knows he really should be thinking about. How old is this kid? Does he know Dante's his uncle? What if he's a virgin -- well, no, probably not, not with that level of dick-sucking technique. Maybe Nero's right, and none of that shit matters. Names don't matter. Propriety doesn't matter. The potential problems inherent in having a kid this powerful in his life, when said kid thinks like a demon and clearly means to make Dante _his_, don't matter. 

Only Nero's sweet mouth matters, as Dante kisses him and nips at him and has a lovely sparring session with his tongue. Only one other thing matters, so much that this beautiful boy has crossed the two worlds to get what he wants.

"Fuck," Dante says, as he pulls free of Nero's mouth. His voice has gone rough because he really _needs_ it, like, right now. Nero is tugging at his shoulders, darting up to bite his collarbones, making little frustrated sounds that go right to his cock, and Dante's pretty much only got enough human brain left to make sure everything's consensual. "_Please_ tell me you want to fuck, again."

"Want to fuck, _yes_." The kid's already got those long, strong legs of his wrapped around Dante's hips. He looks frustrated and furious and magnificent. "_Yours_, Dante. _Fuck._ Snack. Fuck Nero. Pizza. Fuck Nero again!"

Holy fucking shit. It's not gibberish. It's an _itinerary_.

And, well. Who is Dante to get in the way of such clearly-stated goals? 

So he grins, and bows to the inevitability of fate, and bends to get them started on what looks to be a very busy afternoon.


End file.
